


The Mr. Lambert Case

by Jillian



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jillian/pseuds/Jillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy is not very fond of the new partner at the lawyer firm, especially since he keeps walking in on him with 'company'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mr. Lambert Case

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kantharion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantharion/gifts).



> Written for my sweet boo Kantharion's birthday
> 
> Happy Birthday, boo, hope you like it

The case of Rose vs Bloom had been assigned to me months ago and it has been my main account since. I’ve spent more hours on this case than any sane human being should have, yet somehow one of the partners seems to feel the need to get involved in this case as well. Of course he would, the bastard will do anything to see his name in the papers, especially if it’s a case we all internally know is impossible to lose.

Mr. Lambert, yes I think even his friends call him that, made partner about four years ago. He was an asshole to work with before then, but as soon as the title was given, he became impossible. 

And now he sits in my office all the live long day and it’s driving me insane. I’m close to either committing suicide or homicide, I haven’t decided which one yet. Both sound appealing right now.

The guy cannot shut up, not even for a second. He uses words that I hope he knows what they mean, but sometimes I have doubts he really does. He keeps asking about my last visit with the client, no matter how many times I’ve retold my stories. Can the guy not read? I’ve sent him the report the day he assigned himself to this case.

Worst of all, if he isn’t going on and on about the case and how he knows he’ll win it with his eyes closed, he talks non-stop about the guy he fucked the night before. If I even believe half of his stories, he must sleep with a different guy just about every night of the week.

‘Wake up, Ratliff. We don’t pay you to sleep at work. Have you finished that spreadsheet yet? I asked you for it yesterday and I still haven’t seen it. Get. on. it.’

‘Mailed. it. last night!’ If he thinks I’m impressed with his need for authority, he’s got another thing coming. 

‘Don’t play smart with me, Ratliff. Mail it ‘again’, as my inbox is miraculously very empty.’ Why he thinks everyone should address him as _Mr._ Lambert, but he probably can’t even spell the damn word, is beyond me.

If he thinks he’s ‘got me there’, he is very much mistaken. I forward the mail I sent last night, put a trace on it and request a reading receipt. Two can play that game, you know?

Apparently two can. I receive a warning from my superior within an hour, that I shouldn’t treat partners this way, they deserve a certain respect and if I ever want to make partner myself, I still have a long way to go. I don’t even want to make partner, but that’s beside the point.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those green, organic ‘I wish for world peace’ kind of lawyers, I want to climb up that ladder, show the world what a fucking good lawyer I am, cause _I am_ , but my life will not end if I never make partner, that is all.

^v^

From that moment on, _Mr._ Lambert becomes impossible to work with. Even Hitler sounds like a more pleasant person to have worked for, _slavery_ sounds like fun times. The ass has me working 16 hour workdays and I’m working weekends too. He’s got me checking files I checked and rechecked months ago and he knows this, he still has me re-recheck every single fucking detail. I feel like I need to ask for a hall pass, just to take a piss.

But what I maybe hate the most; his inappropriate, so-called innocent, touches. It started a week ago; a simple yet firm hand on my shoulder when he leant over me to read what I was typing. Then a strong hand on my back to lead me to the meeting faster. 

He’s smart enough not to touch where I could sue his ass for sexual harassment, but I’ve come to a point that I wish he would, JUST so I could do something about it. That hand in my neck that he creeps up higher and higher is annoying the fuck out of me. 

I am just going to ignore the fact that his thumb pressing into that pressure point right behind my ear gives me some sort of inexplicable grounding feeling.

‘Finish checking these, Ratliff, and bring them to my office when you’re done. I’m... busy for the next thirty minutes, but I expect to see you immediately after.’

‘If you’d just accept that I’ve already double checked my resources, you wouldn’t need to wait and it would save me a _lot_ of time. I still have a lot of other sources to check before the first court date. If you keep me _triple_ checking things, we’re never going to get properly prepared in time.’

‘Cheeky, Ratliff... Very cheeky. 30 minutes. My office. Don’t be late.’ And with those words and a last stern look, he walks off.

I hate myself for knocking on his door _exactly_ thirty minutes later. Why do I do that? Why?

And of course the fucker doesn’t open or let me know I can come in myself. I know I’m going to hate myself even more for what I’m about to do, but I’m not going to stand here and wait for mister I’m-too-good-for-this-company to grace me with his presence. 

I open the door and regret opening that door even more the second I look inside. There he is, leaning back against his desk while this guy who I have never seen before, sits in front of him _sucking his fucking dick!_ This is not happening! It can’t be. Why is this my life?

‘Sorry I’m running a little late, Ratliff. Come back in three minutes, we should be done by then.’ If I’m not mistaken, he just gave his, I want to say partner, a deadline on a blow job. 

Again I amaze myself by actually nodding and walking away. Well, I sit down in one of the chairs in his secretary’s office. She’s got earplugs in, so she doesn’t even notice I’m there. The little blush on her face tells me she knows exactly what’s going on in there. Does he actually do this all the time?

True to Mr. Lambert’s word, the bj-guy walks out of the office three minutes later. ‘He said you could come in.’ Is what he says and walks off with a smirk on his face. Again, what the fuck?

‘Close the door behind you, Ratliff.’ Mr. Lambert already sits behind his desk, checking something on his computer, as if what I walked in on earlier never happened. I want to ask if I’m up next, but I manage to keep that to myself. I decide to do what he does; pretend what just happened is the most normal thing in the world, everybody gets blow jobs at work and I just pull out my paperwork and put it on his desk.

‘You checked what’s-his-face’ records too? And how far along are you with checking those phone call-lists? Did you talk to Dale Langdon yet? Better yet, set me up with him. Check my schedule with my secretary and set up a meeting before the end of this week.’

Am I his secretary now?

‘What’s-his-face? You mean Arthur Robertson? Yes, checked last week, almost done with the report, just like Dale Langdon. Met with him about a month ago, report of that is in the file. He’s on his honeymoon now, so a meeting this week is impossible. Now if we can just go through this, then I can finally finish the report on Arthur Robertson and continue going through the phone files which you made me abandon to recheck these files right here.’

‘I told you before, Ratliff, you’re cheeky. Watch it.’

And then he starts rambling for two hours, barking new orders at me, making it impossible to even check where I last saved the phone files, let alone anything else. It’s no use to protest cause he just will not listen to any of the suggestions I make. I feel like I’m back in college all over again, at my first internship, where Mrs. Dingle treated me as if I still needed to learn to spell my own name.

By the time I make it back to my own office, it’s already past five pm. I guess another night of take-out delivered to my office it will be. Today’s choice; chili con carne with a side of corona beers. Thank fuck for a fast metabolism cause an office life like this could make a normal person blow up 50 pounds in a matter of weeks.

It’s past midnight when I turn off the lights to my office. As much as I miss living my life like normal people, these moments, when the entire office is empty and it’s all quiet, are my favourites. 

I decide to walk home. I don’t live too far from here, only a few blocks. It helps me clear my head a bit and the fresh air helps ease the head ache I developed a few hours ago. My mind keeps going back to that afternoon though. The look on Mr. Lambert’s face, or more the way his face looked. His eyes had been closed when I opened the door. 

If his face was anything to go by, the guy must have been good. And the look on the guy’s face afterwards, he must really have enjoyed it too. He looked... happy? Sated? How could that be though? He was still hard as a rock when he left that office. There is no way Mr. Lambert could have blown him too in that short space of time. And he’s not really the guy to let anyone go first at anything, so the guy must have left without getting any kind of release.

Would that be Mr. Lambert’s thing? Assuming that this guy was Mr. Lambert’s boyfriend. Would that be his turn-on? To make his boyfriends wait while they service him? Would he have fucked them in that office too?

Why am I thinking about this? Since when do I think about this?

By the time I fall asleep, the six-pack I bought on the way home is empty, the girl-on-girl flick has ended and the bin by the bed holds a number of used tissues but not because of tears, if you get what I mean.

^v^

Over the following weeks, the inappropriate touches become more regular than sporadic and they get more and more insistent. I also run into more blow jobs and hand jobs than I would like. It turns out that the guy I saw the first time is not his boyfriend... or he’s only his boyfriend on Tuesday. I also know that Tuesday only gives blow jobs at the office. Wednesday gets hand jobs and I don’t know _what_ he does with Thursday but the look of ecstasy on the guy’s face is something I could almost get jealous over.

I give Thursday the obligatory nod as he leaves Mr. Lambert’s office, my cue to go in. As he winks at me, I almost spill my mega mug of coffee and I feel my cheeks heat up.

‘Aww, are you blushing, Ratliff? You want some of my special attention too? I would love to get my hands on you and something tells me you would give me more than the guy that just left does. I bet you look hot down on your knees with that ass up in the air.’

‘No! Thank you! Now can we move on to what we are actually being paid for to do? I found some inconsistencies in the phone files and they really need to be looked into more closely. Can we go over some of these? The first court date is only 3 weeks away and me and the team have gone over these files over and over but some things just do not match.’

He’s not listening to me at all, is he? Can I just smack that stupid smirk off his face?

‘Mr. Lambert, please focus. Here is a copy of the inconsistencies, the blue marks show what we’ve found that could explain the inconsistencies, the orange ones are inconsistencies that just make no sense and we really, really, need more information from Bloom Inc. Now, I’ve already let them know we’ll be coming over some time this week, but not until you and I go over this first.’

‘Have you ever blown a guy, Ratliff? Gotten down on your knees, opened your mouth and sucked until your mouth was filled with sweet, delicious come?’

‘What the fuck? First of all; that is none of your fucking business. Second; why would we want to discuss something like this in a work environment and third; why the fuck is that thought more important than this case we are trying to win?’

‘Touchy subject, Ratliff? Don’t worry, we’ll get to those phone files. I am just wondering, that’s all. You can’t blame a guy still feeling his last orgasm radiating through his body. How about we take a five minute break from work, huh? You silently complain often enough about not being able to take breaks. Take one with me now. Get to know one and other.

So...’ he just continues, waving any protest away, the dick. ‘How about you, you seeing anyone at the moment? Someone warming your bed at night? And do you prefer male or female bed warmers? I’m thinking female, cause that’s the safe way out. Pity. My offer to make you change that mind stands, just so you know. I’ll break you, have you begging, within fifteen minutes, mark my words.’

‘Jesus fucking Christ, what kind of sick joke are you?’ I yell out loud. I know his secretary can hear me, but who cares? I’ve had enough of this, _heard_ enough of this. I get up, get my shit and walk to the door. ‘There’s a reason why we call it a private life. It’s because it’s none of your damn business WHO I sleep with, whether it be male or female. Even if I were to sleep with men, you think you would be my guy of choice? Think again, you asshole.’

When my fingers touch the door knob, Mr. Lambert stands up himself, closing that expensive, tailor made jacket to his suit that fucking fits him like a glove, with one hand. 

‘Sit down, Ratliff, now! Don’t pretend your angry, your whole attitude gives you away. you’re more interested than your mind is letting you in on yet. You think I haven’t seen cases like you before? You think the guy that just left isn’t exactly like you? Think again. I just made him see what was already in his head.

You don’t know it yet, Ratliff, but you’ll be begging me before long, just don’t wait too long, I might lose interest.

Now, come back here, sit your ass down and let’s get through these inconsistencies.’

And just like that, he changes the entire tension in the room and goes from sexual ass to work ass in a matter of seconds. We go over the files one by one for hours and hours and I hate it that in the end he solves a few of the files me and the team could not find for days.

^v^

Another week passes, a week where I wake up behind my desk in the early morning, instead of in my bed, at home, on more than one occasion. Mr. Lambert’s hands start to wander whenever he touches me now. He still likes to keep one hand firm in my neck when we sit at one desk, behind one computer, but when we go to appointments, I have felt his hand meet my ass a few times now. 

Why I don’t call him out for sexual harassment, I don’t know. Why I don’t stop him, I also don’t know. I just let him and I hate it. 

I also get the sneaking suspicion that the boys in his office do not just come in for Mr. Lambert’s pleasure anymore. It’s as if he deliberately plans our meetings around his ‘meetings’. I swear yesterday he had Tuesday suck him off with longer strokes than usual. He even pulled him off his dick, as if he wanted to show me his package.

No of course I didn’t stay and watch, it was just something I noticed, that’s all. Nothing more, I swear. How could you not watch? And damn it, he has a length you want to see.

Not that my own is not something to write home about, I’ve seen my fair share of blushing ladies when they saw what I have hidden, but he still has an inch more and it’s thick, so thick...

But let’s not think about that for now. This case is not going to win itself. We’re finally getting to where we need to go, but it’s still going to be a lot of work to get everything done in time. The judge that will handle our case has tried to fuck us over on a previous case so we need to be extra careful this time.

I dread walking over to his office this afternoon. Will Thursday be there, like he always is? Will he make me watch, like he always does? Will my dick show interest, like it always does?

As always, I knock on the door. As always, there is no answer until my second knock. As always, I’m told to let myself in. And as always, I walk into sexual play between Mr. Lambert and as expected ‘Thursday’.

But this is sexual display of a higher level. No blow job for Thursday this time, but a hand job of the most exposed kind. Thursday is leaning with his back against Mr. Lambert, who’s leaning against the desk. Thursday’s head is leaning back in Mr. Lambert’s neck. His eyes are closed, his mouth open, gasping. Mr. Lambert’s right hand has a loose grip on the Thursday’s neck, loose but dominant. His left hand is pumping the guy’s dick in a slow yet steady pace.

‘Ah, there you are. Sit down, Ratliff. We’re almost done here. You’re welcome to join, but you’re not ready yet... Almost there, but not quite yet. Sit, enjoy the show. Arnold here has been dying to get you involved too. Look at him, he’s leaking because you just walked in.

Show him, baby. Show him how good it feels. Show him how much you love my fingers around your cock. Come for me, baby. Come for _him_ , you know you want to.’

As I stand there, still in the door opening, the only thoughts going through my head are ‘so his name is Arnold, not Thursday’ and ‘Did he just demand the guy to come? You can’t force an orgasm to just happen, as if he’s asking for a document to be put on his desk in time’. I seriously should have my head checked. Why don’t things like ‘walk away’ go through my head right now? Or ‘Sue the guy, this is taking it five steps too far’ or ‘You don’t have to take this’. None of these thoughts go through my head, none!

Instead, I watch the guy, Arnold, come on command, he actually fucking _comes on command!_ How weird and sick is this? It is weird and sick, right? I mean, you don’t _demand_ someone to come, just because _you_ want to, right? Just because Mr. Lambert has a work schedule with quick fucks in between, he shouldn’t _make_ his fuck buddies come on his schedule because _he_ doesn’t want to be late, _right_?

Arnold, however, has that look of ultimate bliss on his face again, so apparently he is okay with it... or he doesn’t know any better. Poor guy.

The two in front of me share a kiss that I also can’t look away from. It must have been longer since my own last lay than I thought, cause it shouldn’t do things to me. I need to fix this. Tomorrow night I NEED to go out and find my own lay. Fuck the office for a night, I need some.

In all of two minutes, the entire atmosphere in the office changes again. The guy leaves, Mr. Lambert readjusts himself (I do notice the very hard dick behind the zipper of his dress pants) and sits down and as always it’s as if nothing I just witnessed actually happened. How the fuck does he do this?

Dumbfounded, I sit myself down and we start our meeting, just like planned. Mr. Lambert makes some remarks now and then with hints to what happened and when I leave and walk to the door, he follows me. When I close my fingers around the doorknob, he presses up against me, pushing me against the door. 

He doesn’t do anything, he keeps his hands to himself this time. His dick is hard and pressing into the cleavage of my ass. His mouth is very close to my ear when he whispers ‘Soon, Ratliff, I promise’. 

He opens the door for me, I leave breathless and that’s it. The fucker does it again. How can he mix business and sex the way he does? And why does it affect me, damn it?

^v^

I thought his touches and suggestive tones annoyed me to no reason, but the last few days all of that has stopped and I’m going nuts here. He has replaced everything with looks now though. Sometimes I notice him look at me as if he wants me to ask him to give it all back. 

One day, about two or three days before the first court date, it all changed. Later I found out that he hadn’t planned this, or that he had planned something in his mind, but not until after the first court date.

It was a late Tuesday afternoon. We had been going over final details for hours. Mr. Lambert even skipped his afternoon fuck with Tuesday, or Leonard as he turned out to be called. He was edgy and more of a nazi than usual. He even made Susan, his secretary cry. I had to send her home before he could do any more damage.

This, of course, resulted in a raging tirade when he found out. I didn’t care. The way he treated that poor lady was uncalled for and I told him so. The woman is 30 years his senior, she could be his mother, she should be treated with at least a little respect.

In the end I managed to calm him down by bringing my own secretary to his station for the rest of the day. She’s a tough one and is not afraid to talk back. Even I am a little intimidated by her at times.

But when we walk back inside his office to continue where we left off, he pushes me against the office door, just like he did a few weeks ago, just more rough this time. 

‘No one fucks me behind my back.’ He growls into my ear. ‘I don’t care if I broke that woman down, this is her job and she knows what I expect of her. Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again, you hear me?’

I nod.

Then I try to get out of his grip. I push back, trying to create some space so I can walk to my seat with the last bit of dignity I have left. But Mr. Lambert just pushes me to the door harder. 

‘I think it’s time, don’t you think?’ Another growl in my ear that make the hair on my body rise. ‘I know you did what you felt you had to do for human kind, but it was also your way of showing that you think you don’t need what I know you do. I think now’s the time to show you were wrong.’

‘Get off me... L-Lambert.’

‘Adam... or Mr. Lambert to you.’

How did I not know that? I always thought it was Arthur... Then the M. probably isn’t for Michael either. Adam suits him much better though, I must say.

‘I don’t care what your name is, could be Annabelle for all I care. Just get the fuck off me.’

‘You know you don’t mean that. It’s time I prove it to you how much I know you don’t mean that. Don’t struggle, TommyJoe... oh yes, I know what your name is. Stop struggling, it’ll only make it harder on yourself. Yet more fun for me.’

I try to get out of his grip again, cause, jesus, this borders on rape, doesn’t it? I need to get away from here. Far, far away. I need to get off this case, maybe even get a different job, that’s how far away I need to get.

‘Stop resisting, TommyJoe.’ He says. Does he really have to use my full name? He grabs my wrists and pulls them over my head, holding them with one hand. ‘You’ll make it so much easier on yourself once you finally give in. Resistance is futile anyway, I will not give up or give in. You’ll thank me afterwards.’

While one hand still holds my wrists, his other hand starts to wander. First my neck, then my shoulders, my back, back up to my neck. I feel like I am going insane. I want to run, more than anything in the world, yet my body is not moving a muscle. The grip he has on my wrists is in no way tight at all. I can break free without even really having to try, yet it’s as if my arms are frozen.

‘Going to let go of your hand for a second now, going to take your jacket off. I know you will not run, but just in case know that you will not get far, so there’s no use in trying.’

I don’t even move my hands for some fucked up reason, when he lets go. He has to lower them down in order to get the jacket off. My brain starts functioning a little when Mr. Lambert grabs my wrists to put them up against the door again. 

I resist, or I try to. ‘Fucking stop this.’ I say, but he just laughs. 

‘If you really want me to stop, I will. But everything tells me you want this. Give in to me, TommyJoe. Give in and let me enjoy you.’

The same hand as before starts touching my back again, this time he does not stop at my lower back. His hand goes below my waist band, a flat hand over my ass, his middle finger sliding down the crack between my cheeks. Even further down, he stops right before his fingers touch me where my balls are tucked away in briefs.

He starts stroking me, as if he’s giving me a hand job, but then to my ass, with my clothes still on. How is this real? My dick seems to like it. It’s showing all kinds of interest. I’m not going to moan or groan, I am not, I’m not going to give him that satisfaction, even if I am biting my tongue to keep quiet.

The black glass of the door against my cheek cools me down a little bit, it feels better than it should. I think I’m going to keep it there for now and just hope Mr. Lambert doesn’t notice it. I just know he’ll comment on it if he sees it.

The hand job he’s giving me speeds up and goes further down until he’s fingering my perineum through my pants. Where this guy learns this shit, I don’t know, but maybe he needs to tell people about this. I mean, this should be known by everyone alive. Just saying...

Then, all of a sudden, he stops. Of course I make the mistake of lifting my head off the glass door and look back to see what he’s doing. Of course that causes a chuckle, I’m so fucked.

But it does not last long until I feel hands on my body again. This time at the buckle of my belt. As in; he’s undoing it. When my belt comes lose, the button of my pants gets popped and the zipper is unzipped. I do a silent prayer to let the pants stay up, to not let gravity pull them down my non-hips, but the universe fucks with me once more and my pants are down around my ankles before I can even finish my thought.

Mr. Lambert presses up against my back, his hand goes under my shirt and fingers find my right nipple immediately. He pinches, hard! So hard my eyes water, so hard it makes my dick jump.

The jump of my dick draws Mr. Lambert’s attention and my nipples are abandoned in a second. There’s not sexy or hot finger trail down, he just lets go of my nipple and goes straight for my dick. It jumps again and when he squeezes, it does again. It’s embarrassing but he seems to enjoy my embarrassment. 

His hand goes behind the waistband of my briefs and he grabs me. I feel him shiver behind me. So he’s not completely unaffected by what he’s doing. Somehow that comforts me and calms me a little. I’m scared shitless and I know I need to stop him soon. I should have stopped him long ago. I shouldn’t have let him get this far already. 

Why am I letting him do this? I keep asking myself this, I know, but it’s all I can think about. Well, that and that I don’t really want him to stop. This war inside my head is confusing me and I don’t know what thought to listen to. 

‘Relax, TommyJoe. Don’t think so much. Your body is telling you what you want, listen to that. Listen to the thrum of your hard cock, look at it, it’s telling you all you need right now. See, every time I squeeze, it beats its content. Isn’t that enough? Let go, enjoy...’

It’s hard, it’s so hard to enjoy with these voices screaming inside my head. But when I feel his hand jacking me, all thoughts fly from my head and I finally gasp out loud. I can’t stop him now, as much as my mind might want me to, my limbs refuse to once again.

‘There you are. Doesn’t this feel good? I bet no girl can touch you like this. They don’t know what a man likes best, I do. I’m going to show it all to you, you’ll not want anyone else for a long time.’

My briefs soon join my pants at my ankles but Mr. Lambert never stops jerking me. He uses his saliva as lubricant and that makes it so much better. I’m of the lazy kind, I don’t use lube cause carrying around is a hassle and I like to jack off whenever and wherever I want (yes, it’s happened at the office once or twice in the past), but jacking off lubricated does feel fucking good.

Mr. Lambert is holding me tight against him. His left hand is spread out on my belly and his teeth are leaving marks below the collar of my shirt in my neck. His hard dick is pulsing against the crack of my ass. My head is resting on his shoulder and my breathing is shallow. I will not hold out much longer, I will come soon and I can’t help myself. 

Or, I thought I would come soon. Right when I feel the come boil in my balls, Mr. Lambert stops and lets go of my dick. He puts his hand on my hip and keeps me in place. I can’t go anywhere and I’m not getting the release I have denied myself I really wanted.

‘You’re not coming yet, sweet TommyJoe. You will, but not now. I’m not done with you for a long time. I am going to give you two choices. Do you want me to lock the door, keeping our secret safe and no one will walk in on us but risking suspicion because I never lock my door? Or keep the door unlocked, risking people walking in? It’s up to you, but you have to decide fast.’

Locked or unlocked? Safe but suspicious or risky but less suspicious? 

‘Unlocked’ I hear myself whisper. Shit, what am I doing?

‘Good, I was hoping you’d say that. It’s so much more fun, I promise. Just think; anyone can walk in at any time and catch you on your knees with your pretty lips around my cock, how hot is that? So far you are one of the very few who have walked in on me and one of my playmates, but then... I set that up, so it doesn’t count, does it?

‘Come, TommyJoe, let go of the door and come with me. I’ve got an empty desk that is calling for you. But first I want you to try something new. Get on your knees, pretty boy.’

Oh fuck...

I still get down in front of him. Mr. Lambert is leaning against the desk exactly like he does with Tuesday... I mean Leonard. He opens his pants but doesn’t lower them. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen his bare ass. He always keeps his pants up. 

‘Open up, TommyJoe. It’ll be weird at first, but I have a feeling you are an excellent cock sucker. You don’t have pouty lips for no reason.’

A strong smell reaches my nostrils. Not bad, but it’s just a stronger smell than I thought. Not that I ever thought about giving head to a guy. I sit there and look before I do anything else. There will be a dick inside my mouth so I think I have the right to check it out before I suck it. 

The head of his dick is real purple, a lot more than mine. I finally get it why people call it a mushroom head, cause this is exactly like it. I watch as precome trickles down the slit and it intrigues me, ironic as it may sound.

In fact, it’s the first thing I decide to taste. I tentatively stick my tongue out and lap it up. It’s salty and a little bitter and sticky. I hear Mr. Lambert sigh above me, but if I look up now, I’ll probably bail so I don’t. I stick my tongue out again and lick the same path again. the fluid is gone but that makes me focus on what I’m feeling with my tongue more.

The head feels soft yet so firm at the same time. I never thought of my own as soft but hard, but I never tasted my own dick, now have I? I feel a hand at the back of my neck, I guess my exploring time is over. I open my mouth a little wider and close my lips around the tip of the head.

Mr. Lambert is not satisfied by that move, he gently pushes me further down him and his dick slides down my throat. He doesn’t stop until I gag but he doesn’t give me much space either. I get it, I need to start sucking. 

It’s weird how you act on instinct. As I start bobbing my head I think about what I would want to feel had that dick been mine inside someone’s mouth and do as I would have wanted done to me. I flat out my tongue and press it against the underside so my teeth don’t scrape and it’s something I tried to get my girlfriends to do in the past. Only one ever did and it felt so fucking good.

My jaw starts to ache but when I try to back away, Mr. Lambert keeps me in place. He strokes my hair as if that makes it better. 

‘Use your hands, pretty boy, it’ll make it easier.’

For some reason I find that thought weird, even with his dick in my mouth. I still listen and I feel the pressure of his hands on my head ease. I jack slowly and lap long strokes with my tongue from tip to base. Another thing I wished my girlfriends of the past would have done. 

I end up with his dick in my mouth once more, hands in my hair grip me tight and I start bobbing in earnest. I notice the faster I go up and down, the harder he grips my hair. It drives me, I want that pain. I’m at a point where I’ll do anything to feel that stinging feeling of hair being pulled out.

The sharpest sting, one that makes my eyes tear up, pulls me off and up. I’m on my feet before my brain can register the change. My eyes don’t even have time to open up and see what is happening. Before I know it, I feel a tongue in my mouth and I’m being tongue fucked.

‘I knew you’d be good.’ He whispers against my lips. ‘But I didn’t know you would be that good. I almost forewent my plans and just come in that pretty mouth of yours. I think I will save that for a next time, I bet you look so pretty with my come dripping down your chin. I think I’d even want to take a picture of that.’

He kisses me more. Still dominant and fierce and my mouth begs for it, for more. When hands return to my hair, I feel a sting and my head flies backwards. Mr. Lambert looks at me with raw desire in his eyes. He licks his lips as he looks at mine. If they look anything like his, mine must be red and swollen and hungry.

‘We’re not done yet.’ He says. ‘Are you ready for the main course?’ He steps aside and pushes me against his desk. 

This is the moment my brain takes over and I panic. This needs to stop right, the fuck, now. It’s okay to fool around, it’s even acceptable to suck a guy’s cock, but have one up my ass is where I need to draw the line. 

‘Stop!’ I say, panic clear in my voice. ‘This is enough, we’ve had our fun, but this is where I get off the bus. I... I...’ I don’t know what to say, I just know that I cannot go through with this any further. 

‘No you won’t. You’ll stay on it and I will make you come on my cock alone. Stop this fear of thinking you are something you’re not. This does not change who you are, pretty boy, you will still be the same guy and I will not turn you gay. You’re not. You’re just a straight guy who enjoys a nice hard cock.

You’re scared of that word too, aren’t you? Cock... Sounds dirty, doesn’t it? But the good kind of dirty. You want my cock up that tiny hole, don’t you? I can tell your body does. Your entire body is shivering with the thought of enjoying the fuck I will give you.

‘No! Now let me go, damn it. I don’t want this. Get off me.’

‘Don’t lie to me, TommyJoe, I don’t like liars. You are going to put your hands on this desk and stay there so I can get a few things. You will not run, dear boy, cause I will come after you.’

Mr. Lambert puts my hands on his desk and walks around his desk. I get up anyway, I am not staying here. This is not going to happen, no matter what he says. When I reach for my briefs, Mr. Lambert snaps his fingers as if I’m a dog, but I still freeze in the process. 

‘Now what did I tell you? Get your hands back where I put them and don’t move.’

‘You can’t make me, Lambert. I will not have you rape me against my will.’

‘First of all, I told you it is Mr. Lambert to you and second, for a rape the victim needs to be here against his will. You are not here against your will, pretty boy. If you were, the door would not be unlocked and I probably would have had you chained to the desk and gagged. None of that is the case. You are here on free will, you just need to admit that to yourself. 

Now, put your hands back where I put them.’

He is back behind me, leans over me and places condoms, yes plural, next to my hand and a bottle of what I assume is lube on the other side. His bare dick presses against my ass and damn my own one betrays me by pulsing.

‘I knew you’d come to your senses.’ 

Have I? Have I come to my senses? If I have, then why do I still want to bolt out of here? Why am I shaking with fear? Why do I feel like I’m making the biggest mistake of my life? Why do I want to make that mistake, even if I think I know I’m making it?

My mind is in such turmoil. I feel like one of those bad movies where you see the actor with an angel and devil on each shoulder and they’re fighting over who’s right. 

The war in my head is so consuming that I do not pay any attention to what Mr. Lambert is doing behind my back. I only notice when I feel something very cold and wet against that puckered little hole I call my ass. Fuck, shit, help.

‘No’ I say with a weak voice. It seems to drive that bastard cause he just pushes past the sphincter. My ass muscles, if that is even a word, tense up. As if they try to block an intruder. It doesn’t stop Mr. Lambert though. He pushes harder and with the lube on his fingers it’s not hard to do at all, it just slides in. 

It feels so weird to have something inside my body in a place where usually only stuff comes out of. It feels even more weird when he pulls the finger halfway out and pushes back in. The fucker is fucking me with his finger and all I do is take it and whisper ‘no’ every once in a while. The fact that my eyes are closed and my mouth is slightly open shows the lie I’m still trying to tell myself. I want this even if I don’t.

He turns his finger, which feels even more awkward and a weird sensation happens. He is stroking me from the inside and it makes my knees weak. My silent gasps I’ve been suppressing turn into a loud moan, louder than it should have sounded, but I cannot help it.

‘I knew you’d like that. It’s something usually only boys who have been with boys know about. Your girlfriends have never done this to you, I am sure. Relax, take it, this is just the beginning. In a little while I’ll be using my cock to stroke you like this. You will be screaming for more, I just know it.’

His finger soon leaves my body, I hear something being uncapped and soon the pressure to my ass returns. Why does it hurt so much more than earlier? I try to look over my shoulder, but that’s not easy. I can see his hand but he doesn’t seem to have any object in his hand. It looks as if it’s still a finger that’s pushing up, but why does it sting?

The stinging feeling only lasts a few seconds. Whatever it is he’s doing, it feels better than before. It’s almost making me curious to feel his dick up my ass... almost.

After a minute or two, he pulls out again. Again I hear a cap pop and again I soon feel his finger back at my entrance. ‘Brace yourself, three fingers are a lot more than two.’ Wait, what? He had two fingers up my ass? So that’s why I felt different before. It makes sense too, why didn’t I think of it earlier? Why didn’t he tell me, too?

Because it would have freaked me out and got me nervous, that’s why. It’s happening right now. I’m scared of the feeling, scared it will hurt so much more than before. 

It does! But that doesn’t stop him, it doesn’t even make him slow down. He just pushes in without mercy. He only stops once I feel his fingers are fully in me. Again the muscles of my ass tense up and it must hurt his fingers. When I look over my shoulder, I watch as he bites his lip as he looks down to where his fingers have disappeared inside my body.

My throat makes an embarrassing sound when those fingers start moving. It’s not a groan or a grunt, but something in the middle. It causes another chuckle coming from behind me. Glad I’m not only pleasing but also amusing him. 

His thrusts speed up and so do the sounds coming from my mouth. My hands can’t hold me up any more and I’m leaning on my elbows by now. My head rests against the desk as I take his abuse on my ass.

I moan a little louder than necessary, spur him on not to stop. I know what will happen once he stops and I cannot think about that right now. I haven’t thought of a way to get out of that inevitable, I need more time. So if I make him believe that this is enough, this is too good, maybe he’ll keep going until I found my wormhole.

It doesn’t work, though. Abruptly he stops and brutally pulls back his hand. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

‘I... I can’t do it. Please don’t. Please let me go, I cannot go through with this. You have to understand me. I really don’t want this.’

‘Haven’t we discussed this before? Stop lying, TommyJoe, not just to me but to yourself as well. I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t sure you really didn’t want this. Stop fighting with yourself, aren’t you tired of it by now?’

He leans over me as he speaks, even kisses my back. His hands do not touch me, even if that would probably calm me down a bit. When I hear that cap pop once more, I figured that he couldn’t touch me, he was busy lubing his fingers again. 

But this time it feels different. I realise he was not lubing up his fingers but his dick when I feel two hands on either side of my hips. ‘No!’ I scream. ‘Please stop, please.’ It’s a weak plea, I know, but it’s all I have left. I’m losing my own battle. One I probably never would have won with myself anyway. 

This is the first time that Mr. Lambert actually gives me a choice to get away. He keeps his dick at my entrance, but doesn’t do anything else. He doesn’t touch me, he doesn’t move, he is waiting for me to decide I want this.

I hang my head in defeat. I cannot believe this is going to happen and that I want it. I want it more than anything right now.

Mr. Lambert strokes my back, soft and comforting. ‘So good. I knew you would see for yourself. I knew you would give up your internal struggle. Doesn’t it feel better now that your mental war is over?’

I don’t respond. I can’t. There’s so much going through my mind that it would even be impossible to respond so I just let Mr. Lambert do what he knows how to do.

He grabs hold of one of my hips while I feel him aim his dick... cock at my entrance. ‘Relax’ he says. ‘I can’t come inside if you don’t relax. You’ll only hurt yourself and you don’t want that... I don’t want that. I want you begging for more fucks in the future and that will not happen if you don’t let go of your fear and let me in.’

How the fuck am I supposed to relax when I’m about to get fucked?

I get lifted up, he makes me stand up straight or as straight as I can with a dick at my backside. His hand closes around my dick and he starts stroking me gently. It helps me relax and before I know it, I feel that huge mushroom head push inside. 

It hurts, it hurts so much more than I feared it would. Tears are prickling at my eyes again but I will not quit now. I’ve come this far, I want to finish this. Mr. Lambert still strokes me and I feel his tongue in my neck.

It’s too slow. He pushes in too slow. I feel that it hurts more just because he’s taking it so slow. I release myself from his hold, lean against the desk and push back as fast as I can. I know it’s the wrong thing to do the second I feel him bottom out. I bite my hand not to scream in pain. I realise now why he took it this slow, my body is not used to this invasion. But on the other hand, he’s inside and the excruciating pain of his slow entrance is over.

‘Eager, are we?’ Mr. Lambert chuckles behind me. ‘Stupid, but I like your bold way of thinking.’

‘It hurt’ I croak ‘I figured it would make it easier, I was wrong.’

‘You’ll be feeling this for days. I wasn’t torturing you, you never had anything up your ass, your body needs to get used to it. You are so tight, I had to go slow for my own sake too.’

It burns, my ass is on fire, but he doesn’t move. Why doesn’t he move, for fuck’s sake? This hurts more than that hard push in. I hiss as such; ‘move, fucking move.’ But Mr. Lambert’s reply is ‘are you sure?’ Is he for real? ‘Yes, I’m fucking sure. This hurts more than what I did before, it burns like a mother fucker. If you want to fuck me, you better start or I will get pull back and get the fuck out of here.’

With an ‘if you’re sure’, I feel him slide half way out. Excruciatingly slow thrusts drive me nuts. I squeeze my ass muscles, hoping he’ll get the hint. It causes another chuckle, of course it does. That and a ‘you’ll be the death of me’.

But it works, his thrusts speed up, not enough to take the burn away, but at least I start to feel what I guess I’m supposed to feel. I ease the death grip on his desk and Mr. Lambert takes this as his cue to take it to an even higher level. 

He lets go of my dick... cock... whatever... I’m starting to like cock for some reason. It does sound dirty in a good way. Anyway, he lets go of my cock and grabs my hips and damn why don’t straight people know about this? He’s pumping hard into me now. I lie my head down on the desk and hold on to the edge of the desk, just so he won’t throw me off. The desk moves and shakes and the stuff he has on his desk soon grace the floor. I can’t give it a care, as long as he doesn’t stop with what he’s doing to me.

‘Fuck, you feel good around my cock. I should have tried you out a long, long time ago. Think of all the fun we could have had all this time. Tell me you are glad I made this move. Tell me it feels so good that I’m fucking you. You love my hard cock thrusting into you so hard you almost see spots, don’t you?’

I grunt and groan in return. It’s all I can utter. It does feel good, better than I ever thought it could. I’m close to begging for more but I manage to hold that back... for now anyway. I might change soon though cause I feel that familiar feeling return to my balls. 

‘Turn over’ Mr. Lambert hisses which means I cannot be the only one who’s close. He pulls out of me and helps me turn over as quick as possible. He lays me down on the desk once more, lifts my legs up in the air and this time he thrusts into me without warning. It doesn’t hurt at all, I’m so stretched.

He returns to hard and heavy pounding and it feels so different from this new angle. It doesn’t hit that spot the way it did on my stomach, but I can still feel my orgasm boiling up. 

‘Harder’ I don’t know if it’s possible, but if he can, I want to feel it. He does and he makes me see spots. The hurt it brings along is the good kind of hurt. The kind I wouldn’t mind feeling all day.

He grabs my legs and holds them wide like in a true porn flick and that almost does it. Almost because Mr. Lambert denies my come. ‘Not yet, TommyJoe, you are not to come until I say so.’ I can feel him get close, the power he has over me is his turn on, it seems. At this moment I can’t really care what his turn on is, as long as he will let me come soon. I am too close to be able to hold out much longer. I don’t even know how I’ve held out like he asked. 

He keeps looking at me in a different way as if he’s waiting for something. As if he’s waiting for me to come anyway. I want to, fuck I want to so bad. But right now, I cannot hold out any longer. He needs to tell me I can come or I will whether he likes it or not.

‘Please’ I whine ‘Please, let me come. I... I need to... Please’ I cannot believe I’m actually begging. I have never begged for an orgasm in my life. But then, it’s a day of firsts, isn’t it?  
‘There it is. I was waiting for your plea. Total surrender, I knew you could do it. Come, pretty boy, come for me.’

I cannot believe I’m going to come without being touched, I can’t believe I’m going to come on fucking command, but I’m gonna. Come flies all over me and I scream something primal. My vision goes black, it feels as if my heart wants to beat out of my chest and my whole body is on fire. But the weirdest yet best thing is; I don’t want him to stop yet, I want him to keep going, keep fucking me, keep me on that high... yes, another first.

My orgasm spurs Mr. Lambert on and he fucks me even harder. Profanities fill the air as well as many ‘fuck’s and ‘so good’s. I think he’s trying to hold out himself, he’s trying to prolong his pleasure, but in the end he has to give up and give in. With a final thrust that moves me higher up the desk, he fills the condom while he keeps thrusting into me until he can’t go anymore and finally rests his head on my chest. 

He kisses my chest when his breathing returns to normal. We make out a little more until his cock slides out of me. He cleans me up and redresses me. I don’t think I have ever seen that look on his face, a look of pride and fondness? When we’re both dressed and all traces of what happened are gone, he gives me a kiss that leaves me breathless and he sends me home early for one time.

^v^

That was the beginning of what ever you could call it what we had. I guess it’s easier to say that from that night on, I became ‘Friday’ and the only guy he actually fucked. Some nights we spiced it up and Leonard Tuesday joined in and that’s when I fucked a guy for the first time.

Before I forget, we won the case we worked so hard at. The night the verdict was called we celebrated in Mr. Lambert’s office and it resulted in a sore ass that wouldn’t ease for days, but it was worth it. I think I may even say that that night was the best fuck of my life.

I meet my future wife a year after this night, but it doesn’t stop me from getting fucked every friday night. After our first child is born I decide to come clean, but my wife doesn’t want to know. All she asks is that she never knows who the guy is and will only accept my ‘shenanigans’, as she calls them, as long as it’s with men. Any other way she considers it cheating.

I decide to leave the company seven years later to start my own small law firm in a small town three states away in the town my wife grew up in and that’s when I finally end my time with Mr. Lambert. He has remained Mr. Lambert for all these years, well on Friday’s that is. After we won the big court case, we become friends outside the office and that’s when I finally start calling him Adam. 

I know I will see him again in the future. In the meantime we keep in touch through video chats, if you know what I mean. I already invited him to come over and celebrate 4th July with us. Told him he is more than welcome to join me and my own Friday; a cute, young and aspiring lawyer who can suck cock like a hover and has an ass just made to be fucked over and over again. I think Adam, Mr. Lambert, will be proud of my choice...


End file.
